Recovery
by Thewossum
Summary: Arthur Kirkland feel apart after his wife left him to raise there two sons. He finally deside's to get help after his lawyer and friend Lovino Vargas got him out of jail one last time. Francis is a homeless man who is finally pushed into wanting to get off the streets for good. While his sons handle his drinking in other self-destroying ways, they to soon to want to stop and have t


Everywhere, Arthur Kirkland looked reminded him of her. From the tarnished bedside table to the everlasting rays of sunshine that shone in through the frostbitten window. The way the tea kettle would whistle as he brewed his Yorkshire tea. They all reminded him...a little too well.

It pained him, oh yes it pained him so much. She left him, why? Why, did she have to leave him alone to raise their two sons. That she thought were all so sweet and grateful creatures of God. He growled, as he thought about his sons. Oh, how she had been so awfully wrong, or at least they were like that until she...she left him.

He winced as a tiny bit of sunlight hit him dead in the face, all he wanted to do was sleep. He didn't want to wake up and face another day in this painful world called reality, just yet. No, he wasn't ready but there really wasn't much of a choice. He needed to make sure that the kids left for school.

With a heavy heart and an even heavier sigh, he reluctantly tossed the covers that hadn't been washed in oh, so long. There was a reason for that...a very good one, in his defense. It smelled like her. Well, to him and only him did it still smell of such. After how many times he woke up in a pool of his own vomit, along with going days without a shower. That were secretly washed by Matthew, at least twice a month.

He tossed his legs over the side of the queen-sized bed that they had once shared. He swooned a tad as he grabbed his head with his right hand, he sat up to fast. His head began to throb, reminding him that he was once again hungover. In all honesty he had pretty much gotten used to them, after all you can't drink your sorrows away for two years and not get acquainted with it.

Finally gathering his wits Arthur shakily stood to his feet, looking down at them with disgust. When was the last time he even partook in appropriate hygiene? He couldn't remember but he couldn't remember a lot of things these days.

He opened his bedroom door and began to sluggishly travel to the last room in the hallway, the one that the boys shared. The one that she painted a light blue when she first found out about being pregnant with his first son.

He wanted to smile at the memory but he couldn't, the look of happiness that had been on her face made him scowl. The very fact of her being happy even just a little bit pissed him off. After all, she left him in shambles trying to figure out what he had done wrong. What he had fucked up?

Arthur opened the boy's door, silently peering inside the bedroom only to be meet with empty beds. He frowned. Had they already left...they didn't even wake him up to say goodbye...he would have even made them breakfast.

Arthur rolled his hands into tight fist as he bit his lip, anger wanting to escape his body. "Those little...ungrateful bastards." He said convulsing.

Sighing he shut the door with a slam and made his way into the kitchen with only one thing on his mind...a drink.

For him it seemed all too long since his last one, when in all actuality it had only been about eleven and a half hours since he had indulged in his last one. He roughly gripped the handle on the fridge, yanking it open. He exerted to much force in his last two outbursts, causing his head to pound more.

He bent down slightly and reached for half a bottle of clear rum, he smiled slightly. The only thing he could count on the only thing that still loved him. He grasped the cap and began to greedily twist it, till it came off with ease. With a light chuckle, he lifted the bottle to his mouth and tilted his head back to take a well-earned swig of pure numbness.

He eyes widen in shock as he removed the bottle from his lips and with a low growl, he threw it on the ground with all of his strength. His face red, but not from the alcohol intake. Oh, no if it had been then he wouldn't have smashed the bottle.

"GODDAMIT!" He yelled. Arthur stumbled back after his fit, holding onto the counter for support before moving a hand to his face. "Why? Why Matthew? You know how much I need it...why are you trying to punish me. Don't you think I have suffered enough." He murmured to himself, tears beginning to fall down his face; lightly spilling onto his palm.

He began to frantically wipe away the tears that fell, before giving the puddle of water and glass on the floor a big sad grin. "You think you a bright one, don't you Matthew...my boy." He said as laughed, sounding almost hysterical.

Arthur pushed himself off the counter, making sure to not step on a piece of glass. He managed to avoid all the shattered fragments, as he walked briskly toward the door. He turned to his left, grabbing his coat off the coat-rack. He grabbed his shoes, off the floor...and slowly began to slip them on, along with his coat.

Swiftly patting down the sides of his coat in search for his car keys, sweating, panting and worst of all thinking. He didn't want to think, all he wanted to do was feel absolutely nothing. He smirked in relief and took a deep breath, not realizing that he was holding his breath in his desperate search.

Pulling the keys out of his pocket he grabbed the door knob not even caring about the rest of his appearance. He opened the door, walked out as he was about to shut it he snuck his hand to the lock and twisted it. Nodding, his head in approval of his action. Arthur, then trudged his way down the porch stairs.

He clicked the red button on his key-chain, unlocking his car door. The car that Arthur drove was banged up with dents from previous drunk antics that had ended him in jail, which didn't go well with his lawyer...to say in the least.

His breath coming out in shallow white puffs as he opened the car door and climbed in, shoving the key into its rightful place as he cranked it. He then pulled out of the drive way and strode out onto the street, heading toward the nearest liquor store...then to the nearest bar.


End file.
